


Saving Scout

by TheSmileyGiraffe



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27573253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmileyGiraffe/pseuds/TheSmileyGiraffe
Summary: If Spy had been eating something, he would’ve choked, because the sight was not one he expected that day, and there of all places.The boy anxiously made his way over to the room. His sad blue grey eyes that looked so much like Spy’s own were down casted. His cap hid what Spy only knew from pictures to be dusty blonde hair. The freckles that dusted his cheeks, he knew came from his mother. The ski slope nose also belonged to his mother, but the boy’s sharp cheekbones and jaw line were Spy’s. But what was his son doing here of all places?
Relationships: Scout & Spy (Team Fortress 2), Scout's Mother/Spy (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	Saving Scout

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! I thought it would be really cool to write about how Scout joined team fortress, enjoy. I’m new to this and haven’t written in a while so I hope it’s okay!

The sound of laughter drifted down the empty hall Spy soundlessly crept down. His attention was pulled to a light emanating from the wide doorway. He made his way towards it, his loafers silent on the concrete floor. Perhaps he should be using the small bit of free time to relax with his teammates instead of infiltrating BLU’s base during the ceasefire, but if it would give RED the edge it so desperately needed, then it was worth the loss of a little rest.  
His attention snapped from the voices inside to the shuffling of feet down the hall. He flattened himself against the wall. His cloaking device was on, but the smaller he was, the better.  
If Spy had been eating something, he would’ve choked, because the sight was not one he expected that day, and there of all places.  
The boy anxiously made his way over to the room. His sad blue grey eyes that looked so much like Spy’s own were down casted. His cap hid what Spy only knew from pictures to be dusty blonde hair. The freckles that dusted his cheeks, he knew came from his mother. The ski slope nose also belonged to his mother, but the boy’s sharp cheekbones and jaw line were Spy’s. But what was his son doing here of all places?  
He’d often think about a day where he’d finally be reunited with his son. Spy always thought that it would be at Jeremy’s future house with his mother. Maybe he would have grandchildren by that time. However, that was far in the hopeful future. Jeremy shouldn’t be here. He should be in college by now. He shouldn’t be out here in the middle of the desert in the one place Spy had prayed his son would never go.  
But there he was, paused at the entrance, anxiously gripping a mop he had been holding. His hand reached up to the dog tags that hung loosely around his neck. The boy took a deep breath and stepped in the room.  
“Hey fellas,” the boy began nervously. The laughter stopped. Even from his place behind the wall, he could feel their glares and sneers. They were not Jeremy’s friends. “I uh, mopped the floors like ya asked.” He continued. The looks he got did not improve his confidence.  
“Great,” A gravelly voice said. “Now you can start on the toilets” The mop clattered to the ground as Jeremy scrambled to catch the toilet brush thrown his way. This elicited laughter from his colleagues. While they were distracted, Spy slid into the room, not wanting his shadow to be seen.  
“Or” Jeremy courageously spoke up. They stopped laughing, the man, their heavy, looked down at him. “You could let me in on the plan, ya know, so I can be more useful.” He continued hastily. This brought on more laughter.  
“Wanna be useful boy? Do what you’re told.” A woman, their pyro, spoke up from the other side of a table.  
“But how am I supposed to do my job on the field if-“ He was cut off when the tall man had grabbed him by the collar. Spy wanted nothing more than to rush to his son’s defense, but that would be unwise.  
“Listen, ‘round here you’re gonna pull your own weight and do as you’re told.” He growled in Jeremy’s face. “Got it?” Jeremy would be no match for the larger man if he decided to put up a fight. He turned his head, retreating.  
“Yeah, yeah I get it.” He said begrudgingly. The man dropped his collar with a shove.  
“Scram.” The man dismissed him. Jeremy stomped off, knuckles white from his grip on the toilet brush. Spy’s perceptive eyes scanned the marked battle plans on the table before slipping into the hallway to follow his son.  
Scout slammed open the door to the bathroom and stood in the doorway. But instead of moving to clean the toilets, he threw the brush onto the ground and punched the wall. The pain in his hand seeped the anger out of him. Leaning against the counter, he mentally kicked himself for taking that shit. If only he were a little taller or a little stronger, they’d respect him. Or at the very least let him know what the hell he was supposed to be doing other than be their errand boy. He sighed, suddenly exhausted. He glanced over at the damage he’d done to the wall. There was none, being that the walls were just as much concrete and tile as the floor. The only evidence of his outburst was the smeared blood from his now wounded hand. He caught his reflection in the mirror from the corner of his eye. He moved, bracing his palms on the counter and getting a better look at himself.  
Dark circles that hadn’t been there before hung under his eyes, his face lacked it’s usual color. His eyes had a hint of redness from his lack of sleep. He looked as defeated as he felt.  
He sighed. If Ma could see him, what would she think? She had wanted so much for him. She hoped he would graduate college and get a nice job that payed well, but college was expensive, and his grades weren’t enough to pull through. He barely had enough time for school as it was, having to take care of so many things in his father’s absence. Even if he couldn’t help much how things turned out, he still felt that he was letting her down, letting Tony down. He reached up to his dog tags again.  
“I’m sorry Tony...” He said, hoping his deceased brother could still hear him. “I know you’d be disappointed, but I’m doin the best I can.”

————

At the base, Spy turned off his cloaking device with shaking hands, materializing at the door.  
“And where have you been?” Engineer looked at him over his hand of cards. He was the first to notice Spy’s arrival. Spy didn’t answer as he made his way to the kitchen, lighting a cigarette in his unsteady hands while leaning against the counter.  
“You alright mate?” Sniper asked from his own place at the table. Spy inhaled the smoke deeply, grounding himself before answering.  
“I was at BLU base gathering intel.” Spy began drinking in another breath of smoke.  
“We’re in the middle of a ceasefire Spy.” Engie said irritatedly, looking back to his cards.  
“I am aware,” Spy pushed off the counter, grabbing a chair. “however, I ran in to some... unexpected information.” The men looked at each other.  
“What did ya find out?” Sniper asked cautiously. Not many things ruffled Spy, he was a master at hiding his emotions, but it was obvious something had bothered him.  
“I-“ Spy didn’t know how to begin. “I don’t believe I’ve told anyone, but I...” He paused, they set down their cards, looking at him expectantly. “I have a son.” Engie’s brows shot up in surprise.  
“Can’t say I’m surprised ya didn’t tell us, but what’s it have to do with BLU’s plans?” The men looked back at him.  
“Yes, while I was there I happened to run into him, well he’s grown now, but he’s working with the BLUs.”  
“Crikey.” Sniper rubbed the back of his neck.  
“I expect that the two of you keep this quiet. It would be best if that bit of information remained between us.” Spy said, sitting back in his chair.  
“Well what’re ya gonna do about it mate?” Sniper asked.  
“Can’t imagine you’d wanna keep fightin’ against your boy.” Engie added.  
“It seems that he’s simply their errand boy now, so he isn’t going to be too much of an issue. However, if that changes...”  
“Maybe we could hire him, surely if he sees you his allegiances would change.” Engie offered.  
“He would not recognize me.” Spy admitted. “I left when he was young. He thinks his father is dead.”  
“Well that makes things more bloody difficult.” Sniper shook his head.  
“Not necessarily, they do not treat him well. Perhaps we can sway him to our side.” Spy put out his cigarette on the tray on the table.  
“But what about his contract? Can’t just leave too easy can he?” Sniper brought up. Spy shook his head.  
“He is still on a trial period it seems, with how his team treats him. His contract terms are not set yet, and all that usually takes a month. However, I do not know how much time is left until then. Still, our administrator may not be pleased with us bringing another mercenary into our ranks without the right paperwork.” Spy said thoughtfully.  
“Leave that to me.” Engie said, Spy and Sniper looked at him curiously. “The administrator owes my family a few favors.” He informed.  
“But we need to get him out of there quick, how are we gonna do that?” Sniper asked. “How are ve going to do vat?” Medic asked, entering the room.  
“Go into town.” Spy lied easily. “Engie’s truck has been having some issues.”  
“Yeah, I’ll get it fixed up soon, we just gotta wait a bit before doing anything.” Engie added onto the lie. “Come talk to me in a couple of days and I’ll have it ready to go.” Engie looked at Spy pointedly. What he said went along with the lie, but Spy knew Engie would be working on a plan, not his truck. Spy nodded in understanding. “Thank you.” Spy stood, pushing back his chair to leave. He was warmed by Engie and Sniper’s willingness to help him retrieve his son. He still wasn’t fond of the idea of his son being a mercenary, but he couldn’t make him do anything without telling him that his father was alive, and well himself. Even so, he had no right to tell his son what to do or judge his choices. He lost that right the moment he left.  
His heart twisted with guilt. He did it for their safety, but that didn’t make it justified. He could have left this life behind, made the effort to be a husband and a father. But he chose this. His work was so ingrained into his identity he did not know what he’d do without it. So he chose to watch his son grow up through pictures and to limit contact with his wife to phone calls and postcards. Was it wrong to keep in touch? Perhaps it would have been better to cut contact with her completely and let her move on. The thought had crossed his mind more than once, but he couldn’t do it. He still loved her dearly, he would be hurting her and himself if he had cut things off.  
He shut the door to his room, opened a window, and lit a second cigarette.


End file.
